The past 30 days have been a trip through hell and back again. Over the next few posts I will go through some of it with you. Some of it has been painful and I would just rather forget it. Some of it, just because I am 46; I have forgotten.

Of course, the first topic to tackle is....Julie.

A few days ago a friend came up to me at work and said she had met up with Julie and her kids in Wally World. She was there stocking up for her move back to Michigan that coming weekend.

My friend went on to tell me more about their conversation and I know that I responded as if I were still part of the conversation saying something like, "Well, I hope she's happy", but on the inside I was lost. It was like in the opening scene of "Saving Private Ryan" when the camera goes under the water; all sound is muffled and phased out as if heard from miles away and each sound is distorted. I know I was moving around the room and going through the motion of filling my coffee cup but it seemed as if I was reaching for a coffee maker which was miles out of my reach. Everything in my world was ripped apart as the sun imploded.

In the span of fifteen seconds I went through shock, remorse, anger, mourning and depression. Each of them jumped to the top of my heart at the same time each fighting to be the strongest and none of them staying for more than a second of two. The air was knocked out of my lungs and I staggered back to my desk. Eventually, I came back to clarity as I retied to calm myself. I was able to focus again but continued to be distracted by the news for the rest of the day.

I had just started to come to terms with the whole situation and was moving on. I resigned myself to the fact it was over and had a speech ready just in case she ever did manage to get up the nerve to call me.

Now, the cold reality that she was more than just gone but had left the state without as much as a good bye hit me like a ton of bricks. You will be happy to know that I did not fall into my usual pattern and well on the negative, self-blaming feelings I was going through but quickly went to completely blaming her. I had done everything right this time and yet she pulled away from what I had to offer and fell into her own pattern of co-dependency. She was part of an abusive relationship which fed upon itself an nothing I could have done, apparently, could have kept her out of the cannibalistic cycle of that life.

I am pissed off at her for leaving without saying goodbye. I am disappointed that she wouldn't give us a chance. I am mourning the loss of the relationship. I am sad that she is in a relationship that is only bound to hurt her again. I feel sorriest for and miss her girls. I am angry at myself for what how that relationship fed into the financial situation I am in right now.

The worst part of it......not only did she leave without paying back about $150 bucks I loaned her but she never returned some DVD's I let her borrow....including "Shawshank Redemption"!!!!!! SHE'S GOT MY FRAKKING COPY OF "SHAWSHANK"!....the bitch!

I had the longest hour of my life tonight.

I learned from my ex that my son has a very serious issue involving his relationship with his current girlfriend. I knew something was up because every time the ex would mention this girlfriend her voice would get as deep as mine.She and I discussed the whole thing and knew we were on the same page as far as the messages we wanted to get to him.

So, I picked him up for his stay here as we chatted for a while on basic, every day BS. Then, I let the bomb drop that I knew what had happened.

You could almost hear the oxygen get sucked out of the car.

He gave me monosyllabic answers at a volume only Superman could hear. He shut down completely. I tried drawing him out over and over again even turing the discussion away from the real topic and towards me.

"Are you annoyed I brought this up? Are you pissed off at me? Say SOMETHING!"

nothing

For 78 miles we just drove. No talking. No radio. Nada. He turned away from me and looked out the window. He didn't even use his MP3 player as a wall between us; he simply sat there and didn't utter a sound.

I did all I could not to cry.

When we finally got here I stopped him before he retreated to his room and told him that all I wanted to do was make sure he was OK and that maybe, through examples in my own life, I could help him avoid some of these problems in life and that I wanted us to always be able to talk.

I don't know if it was my own desire to want to get through to him or not but I thought I could see his eyes welling up a little with tears. Maybe I was finally connecting with him.

We'll see as the week progresses. One thing is apparent, though.....

I am the parent of a TEENAGER!!!

My luck never seems to change!

Today was my first day back to work after my extended weekend in New York. As I was rushing around getting ready I leaned down to tie my shoes and suddenly a muscle in my back decided to have a little fun by going into a painful spasm! Suddenly I was doubled over in pain with what felt like a hot knife being plunged into my back.

As is laid there stooped over my bed I thought, "They are never going to believe me if I call out sick!" Add to that I am dangerously low on sick time as it is thanks to my extra day in New York.

Three Alleve later I hobbeled my way to my car and off to work. It actually didn't feel too bad; just another reminder that the universe has a really mean sense of humor.

I have been traveling on airplanes since I was 6 years old so, to have one cancelled flight which screwed up my plans isn’t really something to bitch about.

I am writing this as I sit in the Philadelphia airport waiting for my final flight back to Florida. I should have been making this flight a day ago, but the weather in Syracuse had other plans for me. I had come to upstate New York for the Starfleet International Conference. This is our annual Board of Directors meeting and, since I am a member of that board, I am mandated to attend. My region of chapters pays for my flight and room so it makes for a very inexpensive trip. As I have said before, being in a position of responsibility in Fleet has afforded me the opportunity to see some places I might never have even thought of going and Ithica is one of them.

I flew out Friday morning in a rushed state. I slept about 30 minuets later than I should have and the whole trip seemed rushed because of it. I rolled into the West Palm Beach airport on fumes and made it to my gate just as they were boarding. When we got to my connection in Washington, DC we had to wait 15 minuets on the tarmac for a gate to clear. Luckily, all I had to do was take five steps across the concourse to my next gate, walked on the plane an right into my seat.

My good friend, Lisa along with her little girl, Jillian and friend Monique were there to meet me in Syracuse and were shuttling me to the conference. We used the hour long ride to catch up and gab. I had missed the first half, and apparently long, boring and drawn out, portion of the meeting arriving just after lunch.

These meetings, and the organization as a whole, are an interesting thing. At our heart, this is a fan club. We do good deeds for our communities and for charities but also are a very dysfunctional group. While intentions may sometimes, not all the times, be good, many of these folks don’t know how to positively criticize and, instead, jump down people’s throats, antagonize, insult and berate anyone’s else’s ideas and opinions contrary to their own.

It was with this in mind that I was amazed at how the EBAC meeting went shorter than I thought it would and was nothing like the blood bath I expected. The “opposition” to our current leadership had barely given this team anything of a “honeymoon period” and have not let up. Granted, this administration has made some glaring mistakes which makes even me question them at times. However, this meeting went smooth and easy; almost congenial at times. We did get things accomplished but I was waiting for more. I have spoke to people on both sides and whether evasion was intentional of one side’s part or the other either never saw or was given the opportunity to bring up the controversial issues those issues will continue to play out over the next few months. IC always tends to energize people and it has done so with me. There are two issues in front of the leadership of our group which I have some clear ideas on and hope I will be able to add to the debate.

One of the surprises of the weekend was meeting up with an old friend, Robin Curtis. She was there along with another Trek actor John “JG” Hertzler. I had not seen Robin in about 2 years and caught her and John in the restaurant. I have known Robin for almost 20 years and we have kept in contact and retained a friendship outside of the fandom. We caught up and she was pleased to hear of my inroads to get into acting professionally. Talking “the craft” with John was also fantastic. He has a passion for acting and to be talking with the both of them like a peer was invigorating. During the Q&A session they did together I was able to coax a Shakespearean performance out of him which was amazing.

Robin has a one woman play she has been working on over the past few years which is a phenomenial piece of work. While her career was relatively short and a lot of “fluff” TV like “MacGyver” and “Airwolf” this piece that she has written is what real acting is all about, being truthful. It is sort of a personal “Vagina Monologues”. I even talked with her about the possibility of bringing it to Florida if she ever wanted to test it out. She has a new career in real estate and is giving that her focus of energy. I could still see, behind her eyes, that spark of an actor’s passion whenever she talked about it and how the itch to perform is still there under the surface.

IC is also a chance to meet up with other friends I have made over the years with this group. This weekend, especially, afforded me the opportunity to spend time with my friends Dave and Leslie. While they only live three hours away we hardly see each other and when we do, at most other conventions, it is hit and run. This time we shared a few meals and talked and laughed like old friends do.

It all came to an end and Lisa showed up to play chaueffeur again. We had more than enough time so she brought me to her house to see where she lived and meet her “significant other”, Howard. He grilled hot dogs, hamburgers and these things called spiedies. These are a simple marinated pork, lamb or chicken grilled and served on a single slice of Italian bread. I usually search out local foods and regional favorites but this one really could have gone unnoticed. For some reason, the locals in and around Binghampton, NY make a big deal out of these; going as far as having A Spiedie Festival. The major reason for this I found by driving around the area; the ain’t much frakking else to do in that neck of the woods! Thanks for making them, Howie but, really, get a regional food with some pizzaz to it!

After dinner we drove back to Syracuse. While I was ready to fly back to Florida, the weather had other plans. There were delays going up to 9PM which meant I would miss connections and eventually, after sleeping in an airport for up to 8 hours, back home late in the afternoon. I called Lisa and she came back to get me. I opted to take a flight out first thing in the morning which would put me back to West Palm Beach around lunch time. The best part of this is hat it gave me more time with Lisa. OK, so most of it was spent driving back and forth from Syracuse to Binghampton, but we had plenty of time to talk.

And yes; one of those topics was Julie. Lisa has seen me through many of these situations and is always able to give me the female perspective. She’s not always able to explain the why’s of how a woman reacts and thinks but she does give me an insight into the thought process. And she wasn’t the only one who weighed in and offered to come back to Florida to “have a talk with Julie”; I had three other readers of my blog come up to me and mention the situation. I want to thank each of you for not only reading this blog on a regular basis but for caring as well. It is satisfying to know that this blog isn’t simply my outlet for venting through my life but a way of connection with other people.

My flight should be leaving soon and I’ll be glad to get out of the Philly airport; it really ain’t the best I’ve seen so far. I’ll have photos posted a day or two after I get home. Hope you weekend went better than mine.

A friend of mine said that I am handling this whole "Julie thing" very well. Being such a good friend she went on to clarify that "since you've done this so many times in a row you're getting good at it just out of repetition!"

Friday we spoke, she called me out of the blue, and made plans that I would stop by at a yard sale she was having the next morning before going in to work. I asked three times if she was sure she'd be awake and out in the driveway at 7AM; she assured me she would. I got there at 7:30 just to be sure and, of course....no one was there. I went back home and took an hour's nap. As I was walking out the door she called having just woke up. We left it that she would call me later that night.

That was the last I have heard from her.

I almost went stalkeratzzi on her Sunday night as I planned on leaving a note on her car during the night. I sat in my car in the driveway like Cameron in "Ferris Beuller's Day Off"

"I'll go. I'll go. I'll go. I'll go.......No"

Finally, I sent a text message to "The Other Person" who has become my own person "Dr. Phil" during all of this and she seemed relieved I did not go through with my plan. As it turned out, the note and its use ended up being presented in a much more demonstrative fashion and may have served to get my message across in a much more sympathetic way.

In the note I simply pointed out that I have been patient and understanding throughout our time together and have been trying for the past to weeks to be open and available to talk this "whatever it is" she is feeling and going through but now the ball is in her court. I attached the note to a small vase of roses and delivered it to her office on the day her ex was getting out of jail.

The pin has been pulled, the grenade has been tossed and now I just wait for the earth shattering kaboom.

That was yesterday and the phone still hasn't rung.

My cousin, Cindy, bought me my first George Carlin album for my birthday when I was 12 years old. The album was Toledo Window Box. I doubt that my parents knew what she had bought me or what it would do to my life.

I played the hell out of that record. Over and over again; from start to finish. I would listen to each joke and, as I got to know the material better, would anticipate each punch line and wait for the audience reaction. I would try to picture the audience. It was recorded at the Paramount Theater is Oakland, CA which I imagined was small and crowded with thick clouds of cigarette smoke and the collected body heat combined with the spotlight on Carlin that the red brick walls were sweaty with condensation. The audience was in pitch black only broken by the occasional glow on an inhaled cigarette. The only light in the room was the piercing spotlight trained on Carlin.

I wanted to be there so bad.

After I had devoured that album I got my hands on AM/FM; the Rosetta Stone of stand up comedy which included “The Seven Words You Can’t Say on Television”.

Shit
Piss
Fuck
Cunt
Cocksucker
Motherfucker
Tits

I was in heaven!

Carlin spun words like Frisbees. He twisted them around and turned their meanings on its ear. With each twist he not only told a joke but made you think. While I enjoyed Bob Hope, Johnny Carson, Groucho Marx and others Carlin came along just at that moment in life when the grey matter is beginning to gel and independent thought starts. He opened my mind to truth and hypocrisy and how each deserves scrutiny and scorn. He also taught me how to do it with humor so as to make the other person think; maybe not at the moment of the joke when they are laughing but later when they have time to digest the idea behind it and go, “Hey, yeah, he’s right!”

I went through dozens of phonograph needles memorizing those albums. I would eventually recite his routines for other kids while waiting for the late bud a Gorton Jr. High School; and I killed each time! My first year in high school I did his “Al Sleet. The Hippie-Dippie Weather Man” routine for our Letterman’s Follies; and I killed.

I found out that Carlin started as a radio disk jockey so it was only natural that was the route I first chose for career. While my career did not go as well as his it did cause our paths to cross three times. I emceed one of his shows and interviewed him twice. He was very professional; almost too much so as his tight schedule (and more than likely other outside “issues” at the time) never allowed me the moment to tell him how much of an influence he was to me and thank him for bringing so much laughter into my life. But I did get to shake his hand and look him in the eye and, to me, that was almost like meeting Elvis.

The universe has a sick and twisted sense of humor. Just as I was coming to terms with what has been going on with Julie, just when I thought I had a way of protecting myself emotionally I got sucker punched out of the blue.

A friend of mine called me to his desk where he had photos from the company cookout. He handed me three which included me. One of me alone, one with my friend Clark and then the one that I can't stop looking at.

It is of me and two of Julie's girls; Emily and Nichole. I've got a big smile on my face. Emily has a smile just as big. And then there's Nicki. She is posing just like she always does in front of a camera. She is mugging for the camera with a big, silly, over the top smile.

As if I really needed a reminder.

If you were betting I wasn't even going to get a phone call tonight, you would have lost. At almost 11PM Julie, at least, called me. While giving some excuses for not getting together as planned this time I could hear in her voice how important it was to her that we talked.

Some have asked why I still want to talk. "She clearly knows how you feel about here so it would be up to her to decide where she wants the relationship to go."

Yes, but I still am in the dark about how she feels, what she is thinking and how her mind changed. I also want to remind her of what we have had and what I have to offer for the relationship. And yes, make stark comparisons to her ex. I have avoided it in the past becuase that is a mistake I had made before but it seems necessary at this point when I get the feeling she wants him back in her life in a major way. Again, not knowing completely, I am shooting in the dark.

I did, in no uncertain terms, let her know that I was left out her hanging emotionally and how strongly I felt we had to talk about this. Maybe my friend was right, maybe I am being "too nice" and that she has to see how important this relationship is to me and that I am willing to fight for it.

Before you go getting all worried about me, for those of you who know me, I have set limits on this and have come to the bottom line conclusion that I have done all I can, been patient and understanding and if it does fall apart the blame is on her end. To be so cold and calculating about seems unfair but I feel I have to in order to protect myself emotionally or else I'll be the sad, moping, depressed slouch I have after some other breakups.

I guess I also feel I have to plead my case for the relationship so that, if it does fail, I will have the peace of mind that I did all I could right to the end. Am I hoping it goes, differently? Of course. In a perfect world, I hear her side....present my case and give her the opportunity to have interaction with her ex and give him a chance to be the a-hole we all know he is and then have a pretty clear cut choice.

But, this ain't a perfect world and I have to ready.

Apparently, I have learned something over the years.

I sit here and the phone hasn't rung.

Sunday morning I got up and went over again. As I was turning the corner onto her street Tom Petty's "The Waiting is the Hardest Part" came on the radio.

I almost threw it out the window.

I was met at the door my her mother and Nicky. Apparently, she had been up until 3AM with her oldest. Understandable that she'd still be asleep. So, I left asking her mother to have her call me later.

She actually did.

The conversation was stilted and we didn't even get near "THE TOPIC" except to say that we had to make plans to get together to talk. SHe went through some of the things that had been happening during the week and passing excuses for not being in contact. The vibe I got off this conversation was not good at all.

Apparently, it was clear to everyone at work today that something was up. I had a number of people say something to me. I guess a dark cloud does show a little conspicuously. I tried to put on a good face but, ironically, it was only "The Other Person" who got me to laugh during the day.

Julie and I left things that we are supposed to get together tomorrow night. She is supposed to call tonight to make some sort of plans. That leaves only 30 minutes.

No, not a good vibe at all.

It has been three days since I last saw Julie and two days since we talked. No, things aren't going too well. She has crappy cell phone service to begin with and then one of the girls damaged the phone she has. That may account for part of the lack of contact. I am trying not to panic.

I had sent her flowers at work Monday and talked to her briefly that evening. She was worried I was mad at her after Sunday's conversation and I reassured her I was not. Honestly, I am not. Frustrated, yes; but angry, no. I am trying to see things from her point of view and to give her time and space to figure all of this out.

But the lack of contact is driving me nuts. I finally went by tonight to see her but no one was home. I left a short note (the least stalker-like thing I could think of doing) saying I missed her and urged her to call or stop by.

The frustration is the worst part. Not knowing what the hell is going on in her head. But, of course I thought I knew that to being with but, apparently, I was wrong.

I don't know how I can say this without sounding sexist but since this appears to be the second time in recent history that this has happened in a relationship I think I can ask; what the fuck is with you women?! I was once engaged to be married. She was the one who asked me; she actually gave me a ring and proposed. Then four months later she said she simply changed her mind and "didn't love me anymore". Two weeks ago Julie calls me up out of the blue to say that I make her happier than she's been in a long time and she wants to be boyfriend and girlfriend and in less than a week can't find the words to describe us to a stranger. How do you shut it off like that? I still have lingering feelings for both of my ex-wives and probably still carry a torch or two from back in high school. Yet women seem able to just flip a switch and move on.

Maybe that's just anger rearing its ugly head. I am really trying not to be angry with Julie; she has a lot she's going through. A good friend of mine says I'm being too nice and maybe she's right. I simply want this to work. I have been nurturing this relationship differently than others over the past nine months and don't want to lose it.

After years of dating, two marriages and other sorts of relationships you would have thought I would have learned and been able to spot the signs early; and this time I thought I had.

After only a short time as "boyfriend", my relationship has hit a pothole of sorts. I have been dating Julie on and off since last September and, as time went by, we continued to get closer and closer. As you might have seen in a recent post, she decided that we should "take things to the next level" and said she was comfortable with being called me girlfriend. She said a lot of other things that day which made me feel as if things were finally going right.

I knew there were issues with her ex and I brought them up with her that night. I wanted to make sure that neither of us would be going through an emotional roller coaster; again, something I thought I had learned over the years. As I had been throughout this whole "relationship" I was willing to give her the time and space she needed.

The first thing I noticed was the lack of displays of affection. I am a demonstrative person and like to show the person I am with just how much I like them. All we exchanged were hugs. If I made the first move, we would occasionally hold hands. My Spidey Sense was tingling that something was up.

Yesterday we had gone out driving around to yard sales and something else happened which slapped me right in the face. As we nosed around with Nichole and Ashlyn in tow one of the people running a yard sale asked if I were her brother or boyfriend....and she hesitated, paused and stuttered before answering that we were "dating". The fact that she hesitated in front of a total stranger was significant.

Today, Julie, her kids and father, came over to swim and have a meal. Before she left I broached the subject. She admitted that there were some unresolved emotions over her ex. I have never gone into the details of that relationship suffice to say he's an asshole who abused her and has passing interest in being a father. He had been a part of her life, for better or worse, for the past 10 years; so, breaking that tie has been harder than she figured. We didn't have much time to talk and our conversation was continually interrupted by the girls.

She has promised that we will talk more but my Spidey Sense continues to tingle.

Listen to the words. Bobby made this speech on the spot in Indianapolis. 40 years later and these words are as strong and as meaningful as they were in 1968.

Welcome to Year 46!

I was born on Thursday May 31, 1962 somewhere between 7 and 8 AM.

I looked up my birthday and found some interesting things which also happened on May 31st.

In 1296 BC Rameses II became pharaoh. In 1678 Lady Godiva began her procession. In 1911 the RMS Titanic was launched.

I share birthdays with Walt Whitman, Pope Pius XI, Fred Allen, Norman Vincent Peale, Don Amache, Denholm Elliott, Prince Ranier of Monaco, Clint Eastwood, Johnny Paycheck, Terry Waite, Peter Yarow, Sharon Gless, Joe Namath, Jon Bonham, Tom Berenger, Gregory Harrison, Chris Elliott, Lea Thompson, Colin Farrell and, my favorite, Brooke Sheilds.

The only items I could find for the exact same day were the deaths of two police officers on May 31, 1962. Patrolman H. A. Hight of the NC State Highyway Patrol and Patrolman John Costello of the Omaha Police Department both died in traffic accidents while on duty.

My favorite part of this house has got to be the pool. The weather has finally gotten to a point where I can go in the pool any time of the day or night.

When I can wrestle myself awake even five minutes early the best way to wake up is a quick jump in the pool. The cool water shakes away any lingering sleep and refreshes better than a shower; the total immersion into cool water shocking me into consciousness.

The moment I get home, even before watching the day's "General Hospital" on my DVR, I jump in the pool. The day's stresses wash away as soon as I hit the water. Since we are now in the humid season here in Florida it is a given that even the minimum time of walking from the office to the car and the car to the house would have layered tropical sweat on me which washes away instantly.

The best time in the pool is late at night; I often go in right before bedtime around 1AM. The heat of the day is still lingering slightly in the air and the water is also holding onto its collected radiant heat feeling slightly tepid but still cool enough to refresh as I lower myself in. While a morning or daytime swim starts with a jump and a splash these night time swims are a slow walk down the steps and to the deep end as my feet slowly rais up off the bottom and I floating. The quiet of the night makes any nose seem sacrilige. Only the soft lapping of the ripples in the water and the breeze through the overhanging pine trees are allowed. When the moon is full the reflections on the water look completly different than they do under sunlight. They flash green and blue streaks across the surface of the water and their mirrored movements dance across the bottom of the pool and across my skin. Above my is a clear sky with the stars shimmering as busily as the water around me.

It's only a hole filled with chemically enhanced water but will by far be the hardest part of this house to leave behind.

The clinic at my office came up with a unique way of dealing with a minor injury of mine today.

As I was getting ready for work this morning I was carrying my laptop from my bedroom to its usual spot in the kitchen. Right along this route is the living room; this is a sunken living room with a small 3 inch step down. As I walked by I misjudged where I was and went to step down on what I thought was going to be solid ground instead slamming my foot down further than expected. This threw me off balance and I toppled down in the other direction coming down directly on one knee.

As I started to fall time slowed. I could sense every move I was making and each move I made seemed to break down into the first thought of what was happening, what was potentially going to happen, what I had to do to survive what was happening and all possible ways of saving myself from each outcome. Paramount to all of these thought processes was, "SAVE THE LAPTOP!!!!!"

Luckily, I was able to skid the laptop across the carpet at an easy and soft landing instead of slamming straight down toward the floor as my body was doing. I checked the laptop first and all was OK. Then, I noticed the large bulging and throbbing welt on my knee. But it really didn;t hurt much at all so I continued with my day.

Apparently, when I made the move to skim the laptop across the carpet, I must have turned myself in some sort of combination of moves to which my body was unaccustomed. As the day wore on a stiffness developed in my neck and shoulders to the point that I had to pivot my entire upper body just to turn my head to look in a different direction.

I headed to the clinic for relief. I did all I could to try to talk the nurse practitioner into the importance of hydrotherapy and how much being in my pool would be much more beneficial than returning to my deck. She did not agree. Instead, she gave me some medication. She gave me an anti0inflammatory and a muscle relaxant. It was the muscle relaxant which gave me pause; it was a menstrual cramp reliever.

Kathy, the nurse, pointed out that it was nothing more than a muscle relaxant; not for any specific muscle and should do the work of other prescription medications which would have cost me more. Trusting her as he has always provided good health care, I took the pills and headed back to work.

Damndest thing was that by the end of the day I was craving chocolate and getting into arguments with almost everyone around me.

I am in this new relationship by one day and I have a baptism by fire.

Tomorrow is Julie's daughter Nicole's 6th birthday. Tonight we took all four girls to Golden Corral for dinner. My own son is about to turn 17, so it has been that long since I was in a restaurant with a toddler and here I was with 4 little girls from 7 to 18 months.

It is good to know that, after all these years, I still have my parental reflexes in tact and still have the eyes in the back of my head. To be able to catch a glass of tea before it tumbles over to drench all of the plates on the table while at the same time stop a piece of chicken from being airborne I was still able to keep the girls either at the table and well behaved or following their mother on an almost never ending parade to and from the ladies bathroom and eat my own dinner at the same time.

Golden Corral, for those of you not familiar, is a large, inexpensive buffet restaurant on the lower end of the price scale. It is the place that fills up on Sundays after the Baptist churches get out and serves never ending troughs of all of wonderful comfort foods that put me on the road to gastric bypass.

Speaking of which; while I realize I have slipped back since my surgery I am still able to spot hypocrisy and downright idiocy in other people. While waiting for our table an older man who was easily twice the size I was at my heaviest wheezed his way past us leaning on a most unfortunate cane which strained as it assisted his shuffling steps. His wife whined to the hostess that he needed to sit as soon as possible because he couldn't stand very long and needed to sit as soon as possible.

In my own glass house I thought to myself that possible a few less visits to Golden Corral over the years and he would be able to move around easier than a pachyderm in shackles. And just so you don't think I was a complete hypocrite myself for just being at a buffet restaurant; I usually now only eat what would be considered a normal portion and usually do no more than one pass over the buffet.

The girls were well behaved and, since the place is always crowded and noisy, any of their behavior, which in a smaller restaurant would be distracting, was lost in the din of the surrounding overstuffed masses.

So I have passed my first BIG parental test with flying colors. Actually, all of the girls seems to like me very much. Emily, 7, has Asburgers Syndrome and does not take to people easily welcomed me right from the start. Nicole, 6, and Ashlyn, 3, are always fighting for my attention and Ash is always saying that she is going to marry me. Olivia, the baby, seems to put up with me as much as she does with every other adult; so we'll have to see how that develops as she does.

This post will more than likely produce ridicule and jokes from some of my best friends, but that is what they do best.

As of tonight, I am officially a boy friend.

Julie and I have been “seeing each other” since September on something of an unofficial and casual basis. Over that time, of course, emotions have changed and we have spent more and more time together. There have been moments, like with the relationship with my son, where periods of no contact would lead to paranoia on my part but the moment we speak it was as if not a moment had gone by.

Last night I threw a question at her which took her a day to ponder. Earlier in the week I was showing a picture of Julie and her kids to some friends when one of them made the joke, “Oh, is that Johnny’s new girlfriend?!”

When I showed the photo to Julie and told her what me friend had said I asked her what answer she was comfortable with me giving. She answered that she was still most comfortable with the “seeing each other” kind of answer. Not wanting to push, I accepted the answer and left things as they were.

The very next day she brought up the question again. Saying that she had time to think things over and that I had made her happier than she had been in a long time and that she wanted me to be able to answer that she was my girlfriend.

While I have dated, and thought I was in this similar situation a few years ago until the girl turned out to be a nutjob, it has been 10 years since I was “in a relationship”. Am I nervous? Frak, yes! I am trying to take as much as I can from the bad history to make things work this time around. Yes, I'd be an idiot not to; I am sure everyone who has started a relationship says the same thing. Do I say the same thing each time I start dating someone?

Well......OK, yes.

It has been said I fall too fast. I'll take the wrap for that but this time I can say that, given certain situations in Julie's life, that I have taken the time with this relationship. I have taken the time to let the emotions grow and become real instead of a flash in the pan. Maybe I have learned something from my past.

Or am I getting ahead of myself?

Anyone who knows me knows I am a Kennedy-phile. I am as big a fan of the Kennedys as I am of Star Trek. Just like Star Trek, I have met and become friendly with Trek actors I have also met and become friendly with Kennedys.

I am bringing this up because of the news of Teddy's brain tumor. The media frenzy is as redicilious as it always is whenever someone from the family makes the headlines. I am hoping that, despite his age, that this can be dealt with and that he'll be around for a while longer.

I have had two experiences with him. The first was back in the 80's; I don't remember the reason other than it was an election year and he was making a speech at the Pawtucket Armory. The evening started off with RI Senator Claiborne Pell and retired Senator John Pastore. This must have been what political rallies were like years ago. The stone walls and exposed beams inside the armory gave the room a cavernous feel which was easily filled with the powerful voice of John Pastore. He spoke in short, powerful bursts of oration which sounded like a trumpet solo.

Then Teddy rose to speak. He stood heads above John O. which made him seem even taller. He smiled like an Osmond and waved as if he were throwing a baseball to the far side of the room. And then he spoke! While Pastore was a trumpet, Teddy was a cannon. His voice boomed from the stage and rattled off the rafters and slammed into the stone walls on the far side of the hall. I can't recall what the hell he said but each word cut through and were filled with strength and conviction. The energy from his voice got into your blood. As the pitch of his voice rose, so did your blood preassure. The pace of his speech rose which only brought up the amount of adrenalin in your system. With his voice alone, Teddy got me excited and had a physical affect on me. When he was done I was exhausted. I felt as if I had finished a 2 hour workout in the span of an 8 minuet speech. I have heard lots of people make lots of speeches but no one ever came close to Teddy Kennedy.

My next experience was on the day that my friend Jim Langevin was sworn in as State Representative. This was also the day the Ted's son, Patrick, was also sworn in. I was working as Jim's driver so I got to go in with him through the legislator's entrance. I was also working for my local police department as a reserve officer. The reson for pointing this out is part of the punch line to the story.

As we made out way in, just in front of us was Partick, his mother, Joan (a gorgeous woman) and THE SENATOR. Along with us were a few hundred other people trying to make their way through a single width doorway; so, it was slow and crowded. As we shuffled along I kept watching Teddy. Those big, white teeth were glaring in the sun. And he was getting closer. Jim also saw he was getting closer and he kept craning up to try to see through the crowd. As I looked from Jim to Teddy, no more than 8 feet away, I saw the opportunity to give Jim a coronary.

"Jim," I said as I leaned down to whisper in his ear for only him to hear. "It suddenly dawned on me that I just joined a special fraternity."

Jim looked up at me and said, "What the hell are you talking about?"

As I reached into my overcoat towards the holster holding my off duty Walther PPK I said, "I'm one of two other men ever to get this close to a Kennedy with a loaded gun!"

I swear this was the closest I had ever seen Jim coming to actually getting out of his wheel chair! His eyes bugged out like a freightened cartoon character and flailing his arms at mine he screamed in a whisper, "GET YOUR HAND OUTTA THERE! HIS GUARDS ARE GONNA KILL YOU!!"

I just smiled, pointed and waved at Teddy as he passed by us unscathed and the blood began to return to Jim's face.

Jim did get even with me a few years later after both he and Patrick were elected to the US Congress and I was exiled to Florida. We were talking one day when he casually told me he had just been to a cookout at Patrick's.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, Jack; I got that wrong. It wasn't at Patrick's. It was at HIS GRANDMOTHER'S HOUSE IN HYANNISPORT! Sorry you couldn't be there."

It's not often someone one up's me but Jim had definetly trumped me on this one!

I had the most amazing phone call from my son the other day. He called just to talk.

First he gave me a hard time about not answering a text message of his and the conversation just rambled from there. We talked about movies, school, his girlfriend, vacation plans, his next weekend up here, work…just about everything. I didn’t have to pull teeth to keep the conversation going as is sometimes necessary with a teenager. There were moments when we were just silent as one or the other looked something up on the internet that had to do with our conversation.

But we just talked.

I felt as if I were talking with any other of my good friends. I made sure the DVR was set to record and simply settled back and enjoyed the conversation. It rambled from one topic to the next. If you have never tried having a conversation with a teenager you can’t appreciate the significance of this call.

“How’s school?”
“OK.”

“Did you do anything special this weekend?”
“No.”

“How was the concert?”
“Alright.”

“How are you feeling today?”
“grunt”
“What?”
“mumble”
“What?”

This was not one of those conversations. It was one old friend calling another just to check in and see what was going on. Usually, in our conversations, there would be a quick run through a topic and then a looooooooong pause. As the oxygen left the room it would be a subtle hint that we were done talking. This time we just kept talking.

Watching my son grow into a man is going to be an amazing journey. As he gets older I am reminded of the words from John Lennon’s “Beautiful Boy”. While the words take on a strong irony given how close to his death these words were written, they still are as meaningful when I think about my 16 year old as when John wrote them about his 6 year old.

Out on the ocean sailing away,
I can hardly wait,
To see you to come of age,
But I guess we'll both,
Just have to be patient,
Yes it's a long way to go,
A hard row to hoe
Yes it's a long way to go,
But in the meantime,

Before you cross the street,
Take my hand,
Life is just what happens to you,
While your busy making other plans,

I just saw "Speed Racer" and I'm still not sure if I really liked it or not.

You have to understand that Speed Racer is part of my childhood. I would get home after school and WLVI Channel 56 of Cambridge MA would have an afternoon of cartoons for us kids. Uncle Dale Dorman, a Boston radio DJ, was the host. He would take me through the best hour of my day. I know there were other shows as part of the afternoon, but the ones I can recall as if I just watched them yesterday were "Speed Racer" and "Kimba the White Lion".

I could get into a whole post on the "Kimba"/"Lion King" ripoff but I've already ranted about Disney this week.

"Speed Racer" was filled with all the action, adventure and suspense I could cram in my 5th grade mind. As I sped around on my Schwinn bicycle I was actually at the wheel of the Mach 5. More often that not, I was also the mysterious Racer X at the wheel of the Shooting Star. I could never talk my mother into sewing me a full head mask like his to make the experience complete. She kept saying something about impaired vision. Which made no sense to me; I HAD TO be Racer X.

Speaking of which; Lois Lane cannot hold a candle to the entire Racer family when it comes to not seeing through a secret identity. How could they not have seen through his disguise?! All he was wearing was a stupid mask! Rex Racer.....Racer X. Say it a few times fast in a row and you can figure it out! Sheesh!

I can still remember when I first started driving that words of advice from Pops Racer came to mind. "Coast into the turn and down shift as you come out of it!" I actually tired that once. Apparently, it works a lot better in the Mach 5 on a race track than it does on the back streets of Oakland Beach.

As for the movie....

I was not as offended by the Mach 6 as I thought I was going to be. I still don't see the need for it. The Mach 5 is supposed to be the best engineered car on the planet. If you're going to make improvements make them on the Mach 5 and don't go replacing it. There is NO REPLACEMENT for the Mach 5. The enhancements they did make to it in the movie were supposed to be original designs by Pops not some CIA-like police force.

The casting was great. This was as close as human beings could come to recreating the animated characters. Each actor was perfectly matched; from John Goodman as Pops to Benno Fürmann as Inspector Detector. The one exception was Kick Gurry as Sparky. Since when was Sparky an Aussie?! YUK!

The whole flashy, colorful world this Speed Racer inhabits reminds the audience that this comes from an animated universe. I liked that. I kept trying to tell myself that very thing as I watched this world's weird version of automobile racing. The drifting, jumping and Kung Fu moves the cars went through seemed alien. While "Speed Racer" was animated, it was still about a car race. These didn't look like car races.

The whole corrupt racing sponsor story got a bit stretched confusing me and boring the kids in the audience to a point where some started running up and down the aisles. The language went over the top at points and I really could have done without Spritle flipping the bird and Chimm Chimm flinging poo.

In the end, I was most happy when I heard the little kids around me reacting to the movie. The rug rats, some whose parents might nit have even been born when Speed was first aired, were now watching, laughing and cheering. Maybe one of them is now riding around their neighborhood on a bicycle turned into a Mach 5. That's cool!

This whole Miley Cyrus thing makes me want to wretch. I picked up the issue of Vanity Fair. OK, Miley is not the only reason because there is a fantastic cover story about RFK's last campaign. Hopefully, those who do pick up the issue for the Cyrus thing will ready the RFK article, but anyway...

The photo is not that bad. I've seen some footage from Cyrus' recently released concert film and there are many more provocative images there than in the one Annie Lebovitz photo.

The whole thing is that Disney is crying that the photo shoot was done by Vanity Fair was exploiting a child for monetary gain.

OK....read that again. DISNEY was complaining that a child was exploited for monetary gain. Am I the only person who sees the irony in that statement? Am I also the only one who realizes that Disney just released that concert video and that the free publicity of a "controversy" would not only boost the circulation of Vanity Fair but quiet possibly boost sales of their new video?

Give me a break!

Home again, home again......whooptie-frakkin-do!

The flights home were OK and I would always opt for the red-eye as I got to sleep most of the way. The only thing that sucks is that I lost my MP3 player. I had that danged thing loaded to the limit with a two foot tall pile of my music.

For the trip I had tried to listen to "A Confederacy of Dunces" by John Kennedy Toole. I have heard about this book since moving to Florida and listening to the Love Doctors, a local radio talk show unlike any other. (If you're not from Florida, give them a listen sometime. You can listen online!) The host, Rich Dickerson, has been touting this book as one of the best ever written but I have never gotten past the 3rd chapter. It is supposed to be loaded with satire and humor but all it has ever done is put me to sleep. I figured that, with all the flying time, I would be able to make a dent in it in the audio version. That put me to sleep even faster.

One story I left out in my earlier posts was one of the funniest. It was on our trip to Bruce Lee's gravesite. The cemetery is smack dab in the middle of a cute residential neighborhood. This is where we had found a playground for the kids to burn off some energy. There was also a drained wading pool waiting for warmer weather and, at the top of the hill, a botanical garden. I'm sure, if we had more time, the white frosted glass of the hothouse was filled with some really beautiful plants and flowers.

First, you have to understand the Berry youngsters obsession with flowers. Both Sarah and Benjamin grab at anything with a colored bud on it. Any flower or plant within reach is their bounty. A dandelion becomes more beautiful than a rose in their hands. Flowering hedges, creeping vines or weeds, as long as there is a colorful flower of some kind, is as beautiful as any $100 bouquet from a florist.

Sarah, apparently, didn't have to go inside to enjoy the flowers. As we continued to walk past the gardens looking for the entrance to the cemetery I felt a tug on my pants leg.

"Here, Jack, this is for you."

In Sarah's hand was the beautiful bud of a full grown, newly blossomed, tulip. I looked from her hand to her big three year old eyes to the bed of tulips right in front of the Botanical Gardens. Standing there.amongst the full bed of gorgeous flowers, were three headless stems wobbling in the breeze.

As Sarah handed one of the other buds to her father I crammed mine in my pocket and tried explaining to her, as I hurried us further away from the scene of the crime, the concept of a public funded garden and how not only the workers in the garden but the local police might be upset that she had picked them.

I did, at least, put the contraband to good use as I left the tulip bud on Bruce's headstone.

I am sitting in the SeaTac Airport waiting for my re-eye flight back to Florida. The past few days have sped by and each has been filled with time spent with my friends I will always cherish.

OK, it sounds very "Hallmark", but it's true.

Today we slept in a little and then made our way to a restaurant I had seen featured on the Food Network's "Diners, Drive Ins and Dives". It is called Voula's Waterfront Grill. It is set along side the water in the college district of town not far from where we had gone to see "Ironman" the day before. If we had known we were this close before we might have opted to go then as the service is VERY laid back and not really the best for little children. Or, at leas the little balls of energy we had with us. I was disappointed that Voula herself was not there. From what I had seen on TV she is half the fun of going there. The other half is the food...and it is terrific. I had a Greek Hobo; which is an egg scramble with Greek sausage, hash browns, onion and feta cheese. Delicious!!!

After that we took a ferry to Bainbridge across Puget Sound. Jason and the family kept inside where is was warm and not as windy. On the return trip I was on the bow with the icy wind blowing in my face. As we made our way across the Sound, seagulls kept pace with the ferry racing along with us like feathered fighter escorts. It reminded me of the hours I spent on Oakland Beach back home; walking the beaches in the dead of winter.

The one thing I will not miss about Seattle is the hills. Steep inclines are everywhere. There were some of these I did with 2 year old Benjamin on my shoulders. This weekend has been quite the workout!

The city looked better from the water than it does walking the streets. Most of downtown is unremarkable. But, from the water with the mountains as a backdrop the city loks gorgeous. Without having my friends to come visit, I am not sure if I would have ever come here on my own but I'm glad I did.

My goodbyes with them was short and sweet and I didn't get the chance to tell them how much I really apprecate them and all they have done for me. I know, with some friendships you really don't have to but, as I get older, I feel the need to vocalize my emotions more and more.

Today was kind of easy going. Although Jason and I got up early to make it downtown for Free Comic Book Day. We went to one of his favorite stores in the University District. Like most communities near a college this was filled with all of the requisite shops; books, music, speciality foods, tattoo parlors and vintage clothing. I haven't seriously collected comics in years but, hey...it's free. I also grabbed a Trek comic and introduced Jason to Filler Bunny.

Afterwards, we went to the other staple of the college community; the artsy movie house to see "Ironman". This was in a renovated a renovated theater dating back somewhere to the '20's by the looks of it. Old, wooden seats flat on the floor and a ticket booth outside the front door. No stadium seating here but a killer sound system.

As far as the movie: outstanding! Robert Downey Jr. IS Tony Stark. No two ways about it, Downey makes this movie. He brings the smart assed billionaire to life. His believability as that character makes the entire rest of the movie believable. As soon as you believe him as that character the flying suit, the ultra high tech science he surrounds himself with, the flying suit or armor...everything makes sense and works. Even Jeff Bridges over the top performance at the end of the movie, under any other circumstance would be laughable, has weight and believability because you buy Downey as Stark. The story has depth and an emotional weight to it. As always with these super hero movies; they mess with the history of the character. In this instance, it makes sense and adds to the drama. And, if you haven't heard already, stay until after the credits.

The best part of the day was my interaction with my son because of the movie. Just as I was headed to the movie, I text messaged him. He told me he had seen the movie, calling it "awesome". He also gave me the heads up about the final moments of the movie. When I texted to him again saying, "You were FN right! The movie ROCKED" he called me right back and we talked like two geeks for about 5 minuets. It was another of those moments where I had built up my anxiety about not seeing him for so long and worrying that we were drifting apart and he made all those feelings go away with one simple call.

You've seen me talking about this before and I have no idea where this comes from. If it's an abandonment issue or what it's called, I don't know. The moment it happens and a situation like this phone call clears my head I can see it for what it is and I almost slap myself in the head to remind myself to get over it. It may be my growing anxiety as his 18th birthday looms closer. I know he is my son, he always will be my son and we will always have the strong connection that we have. I also know someday I will get over this ridiculous cycle I go through.

Maybe by the time he turns 30.

Speaking of birthdays; Dana gave me my birthday cake early. A delicious chocolate cake; all soft and gooey inside. For years now, she has been making me a Red Velvet cake for my birthday. This woman is a whiz in the kitchen. I don't know how Jason doesn't have my physique with the way she cooks. This year, because we have been running around so much, she wasn't able to get the extra ingredients to make the usual red velvet. But, since they had flown me out here for my birthday...I'll let her slide this year!

Today was another tourist day. We headed into Seattle to the Mecca of all tourists; Pike Place Market. We wandered through the stores and had lunch. For me the ironic touch was I was on the west coast of the US eating a clam chowder that had won at the Chowder Cook Off in Newport, RI.

After that we went to the gravesite of Bruce and Brandon Lee. It is off on one of the suburbs of the city so the ride getting there took a while. Then the grave site is at the top of a hill inside the cemetary. It was impressive and, for a fan, well worth the hike. The added bonus to the day was that in our searching for the entrance to the cemetary we discovered a gorgeous playground. The kids got to spend a good 45 minutes running and playing while I sat and rested my fallen arches.

A few months ago, my friend Jason called and said, "We'd like to give you a birthday present. We want to fly you out here to Seattle for a weekend!"

So, here I am in the great northwest!

The flight out here wasn't that bad although my wide body and that of most airliners aren't completely compatible. I felt really sorry for this little Spanish speaking older lady with a cane and bad leg who was sandwiched between me and her also bulky son on the 4 hour flight from Houston to here.

No one at work is going to believe me when they find out that all along my way here I had called to check in with my office 4-6 times! We have just started re-vamping the department in which I work and I was responsible for setting my my temporary replacement and getting all the work together for while I was gone. She had some computer issues all morning long and in between flights I would call and check and offer help. I'm on frakking vacation and I'm calling the office! Something is seriously wrong with me!

As as flew in we got a fly by of Mt. Rainier and a wonderful view of the city. The drab little airport here is in serious need of a makeover. As I waited for my luggage I tried for the 3rd time, as I had all morning to reach Julie; but no answer. I then called her father and found out that she had taken her oldest daughter, Emily, to the emergency room. It's so frustrating for me, at times like these to be so far away. Her father made me feel better, though. He said he'd tell he I landed OK in Seattle with three flight attendants in my lap.

What a pal!

Jason had arranged for a car to pick me up and I finally made it to their apartment in Renton by lunchtime. The kids went nuts when I came through the door. Jason, himself, looked good; sporting a new, finely trimmed Mohawk. Ben, his youngest, is now walking and talking and has come out of his shell. When I saw him 8 months ago he was always slightly aloof and not too sure about me. Now we are best buds. He is constantly saying my name and is ready to sit with me or ride on my shoulders.

We took the bus into downtown and then onto the monorail to the city center where we met Dana. We nosed through some gift shops and then had dinner in the restaurant at the Music Experience Project. Then it was off to one of my "must see's" on this trip. The Science Fiction Museum and Hall of Fame. The collection is excellent; the filming model of the Jupiter 2, Robby the Robot, Cylons, the Lost in Space Robot, costumes, weapons and...KIRK'S CHAIR! I must have stood staring at that for 5 minuets.

My other big geek moment when I was looking through the collection of movie and TV robots. I walked past the biggies they had together in this one case where they had Robbie and the Lost in Space robot conversing with each other. As I walked around the display, making a turn past R2D2 I was caught by surprise by something which instantly turned me into a 14 year old.

"Muffett!" I yelled out. There, tucked in the corner, almost out of sight, was the Daggit from the Original "Battlestar Galactica"! Yes, I was a geek in heaven.

We didn't go through the Music Experience as it was getting late. I also passed on the Space Needle as they wanted $16 to go to the top. I might reconsider by the end of the weekend but at least I can say I had been there and seen it.

I can see why the grunge movement started here in Seattle. It is not too remarkable a city and the cloudy skies can easily make for a darker mood. We've still got plenty planned for this trip and I'm here until Sunday. More than anything, it's good to be with my friends again.

"It was 20 years ago today....."

Not only word to one of the greatest songs ever but the first words that ran through my head today. It was on this date in 1988 that I married for the first time. Yeah, I wondered where my ex was and if I ever crossed her mind today and then I started thinking in the bigger picture.

What had happened to me in those 20 years.

I have changed careers a couple of times and may be on the verge of yet another turn in my life. I have fallen in love twice since then. I married and divorced again and almost married again. I left the place I thought would always be my home. I lived in my car for 2 weeks and have lived in 8 different places. I have been unemployed and gained and lost positions and prestige in my current job. I have lost some of the dearest members of my family. I have lost and gained some of the best friends I will ever have. I have had money in the bank and bounced checks like the Globetrotters handle basketballs.

And then....there's my son.

Suddenly all the thoughts of what might have been were silenced by where I was today and what I had in my life. I've often said that the things I've been through in my life have gone a long way to make me who I am today and made me stronger. All of that comes into balance when I look into my son's eyes, touch his face or simply share a laugh and a smile that I know there is no other place or situation I would rather be in for my life.

But....if anyone sees my ex....tell her I said "Hi".

I had the weirdest string of dreams lately; well, nightmares, actually. Over the weekend I continued to have dreams about my ex-wives. And the worst part was that each of the dreams dealt with our breakups. Of course, it's been a few days and all of the details are gone and the dreams weren't a replay of our breakups but what I remember were they were as if the break ups were happening today; bits and pieces of every day life of today placed over our breaking up.

The absolute wort part of the whole thing was that these were dreams with a very strong emotional element. I would wake up each time upset, depressed and emotionally drained as if I had actually gone through the heart wrenching scenes in real life. They wouldn't stop, either. If I woke up in the middle of a dream about my first wife I would go back to sleep and go into a dream about my second wife. All weekend long the dreams kept switching back and forth between one and the other and just wouldn't stop. It was beginning to piss me off. Last night I was almost afraid to go to sleep but the dreams finally were over with.

Some say there are reasons and meanings in our dreams. Others say that it is the brain resolving thoughts leftover from the day. Freud said sometimes a banana is just a banana. Even though it is coming up on what would have been my 20th anniversary with my first wife I haven't been "going through anything" over it and my second wife and I have been getting along wonderfully lately. I haven't been wrestling with unresolved emotions and regrets; I've been feeling pretty damn good about life in general. Must be the universe's way of just fucking with me a little.

Or.......

Maybe one of the ex's learned how to place a curse on me.

Now THAT is a definite possibility!

I live for today! April Fool's Day has always been a favorite of mine and today was one of the best.

My friend Crystal has a compulsion; she folds her trash before throwing it away. It was during lunch a few months ago when I first noticed it. She was done with her meal and very meticulously, and with a quiet reverence in a kind of ceremony, she would fold what ever food wrapper she had just used. Tin foil was flattened and pressed like a crisp, clean shirt, candy bar wrappers were folded over and over all neat and tidy. Only then was it ready to be thrown away. This continued each and every time we had lunch; it was her lunch ritual.

Of course, being a good friend, I called her on it. Yes, I laughed at her as well! I would also, from time to time, reach over and crush up her perfect little trash origami. She would sigh, say something sarcastic and start all over again returning her trash to its perfect pre-disposal form.

As April 1 approached my other lunch buddy, Clark, and I starting planning. At first we thought about filling Crystal's cubicle with packing peanuts. But I had a better idea. Instead of the peanuts the image of her desk covered with crinkled and crumpled food wrappers was a divine inspiration.

We had three weeks and set right to work. Each little snack wrapper went into an empty desk drawer. Clark even sent an email to his sales team sating he was collecting food wrappers as part of his son's class project. He would then send these wrappers to me by interoffice mail. Each time I had one of the stuffed envelopes I would laugh; the image of this envelope stuffed with crinkling plastic and foil wrappers being shuffled around the building with other important business paperwork was priceless. It was if the entire company was helping out with the gag.

And here's what we ended up with.



I had set this up the night before which allowed most of the night crew to stop by, laugh and take their own photos. The next morning I waited in the row next to her desk waiting for her arrival.

"I can't believe this! Oh, my God!"

Followed quickly by, "I'm going to kill you!"

It's been almost two months since I posted. Yes, things have happened that have merited posting; I just haven't gotten around to it. Last night really warranted an entry.

I went to my first acing class.

There is a series of classes held at the Burt Reynolds and Friends Museum in Jupiter. I don't really know if "museum" is really what this place is; it's more like Burt's closet. It is a collection of all kinds of memorabilia and probably every award Burt has ever won.

In the midst of all this is a series of classes run by professional actors and teachers. Since this was my first "real" acting class I decided to start in the shallow end with a class which goes through the basics of "The Method" as taught by Sanford Meiser and Stella Adler. (Google them if you have no idea) I was nervous and slightly intimidated as about 10 other actors showed up. A few got on stage and talked about why they wanted to be an actor. Some of them had real experience, some had been through community theatre, a few students and one guy who just tried too hard.

I was called to the stage to do a repetition exercise. I was seated opposite another actor and we were told to simply repeat the same word or phrase the other person started back and forth over and over again. The purpose of the exercise is to get beyond the words of a script and to the real emotions and create a relationship between these two characters.

And we did.

We repeated the same words over and over again. First it was "tired" and then "stop". These two words turned into a tense scene between one person reaching out to another troubled person. I focused directly on the other person and completely forgot the other people were there. It was just him and me and the emotion between us the the reality of the moment got stronger.

It was amazing and it continues to affect me. All day today I was walking around rerunning the scene in my mind; imaging it going on longer and all the different angles I could have taken. Taking this class may have been one of the choices I have made recently. While I do like my 9 to 5 job I never find myself walking around thinking about it days later. I was in my element and it felt right.

As I said before, some things have been going on in the past two months and I will update you and keep up with my postings.

My lack of posting in these first few weeks of 2008 does not mean nothing has been happening. I’ll catch you up.

The best story is a wet one. I woke up one Wednesday morning for work bright and early at 7AM. I stumbled to the bathroom and reached in to turn on the shower. In stead of the usual torrent all I got was a trickle.

This was not going to be good.

My mind raced through the possibilities of what could be the problem. Staying at Jason’s was my first experience dealing with well water but I knew enough to first check the breakers on the fuse box to make sure there hadn’t been some problem during the night. Everything there was OK.

Now…panic set in.

Since this was not my house no plumber or electrician or plumber would work on the house without Jason’s approval and with his being in California , contacting him could not happen until somewhere around noon so, effectively, my day at work was cancelled. Jason usually uses his cell phone, which has some very bad coverage where he is living, and was out exploring northern California every time I tired calling their house number. It wasn’t until late Thursday night that I was able to reach him. Arrangements were quickly made with the company name found on the pump hardware for a repairman to come by Friday.

This had made two days without running water. Dishes started petrifying in the sink and I used the pool as a reserviour to keep the toilet running; filling the tank by hand for each flush. Showers? Yes, I took showers through the generosity of my friends two doors down. I would wake up a half hour early to walk down to their house and use their shower. It was either that or use the pool, and since the pool wasn’t heated I wasn’t looking forward to the shrinkage; my testicles would have ended up somewhere around my throat.

The repairman showed up Friday and stood for a moment looking at the collection of tanks and pipes in the garage. Within moments he said, “You problem is the pump, that’s not our equipment.” I think he saw the panic in my eyes and quickly said, “Hold on a moment.”

He went to his truck and returned with a screwdriver. Within thirty seconds he bent over the equipment, found what he was looking for, took the screwdriver by the shaft, swung it and tapped the pump twice.

The pump sprang to life!

“You’re shitting me!” I swear I could hear the pump laughing at me.
The repairman too his scientifically designed and calibrated uber-screwdriver and drove off to save another mechanically inept person.

With my luck, if I had tried the same thing, the house would have flooded. With each shower I take now I am secure in the knowledge that if it happens again I can respond like Bob Villa with my own expertly calibrated screwdriver.

A good new years?

The girl I have been "seeing" for the past three months is apparently spending her New Years with her family, including her ex-husband. Earlier in the week she had mentioned having some sort of small gathering at her house and had asked me to attend. As today closed in she talked more about her step-son still being in town and probably having to do something with that part of her family. I can deal with that...somewhat.

If you've known me or read enough, I sometimes set myself up for disappointment in such situations. Those of you who have known he long enough are shaking your head at me because here I am in my usual situation. I can deal with that...somewhat.

My son saved the day; mostly by being in the same boat as me. At around 12:15 the phone rang. He was at home. His original plan, and the reason he was not here with me over the weekend, was that his girlfriend was having a party. His mother and stepfather apparently were not to happy about those plans. As we talked I could still hear the anger in his voice. I don't know all of the details but, it was some sort of a big blow out between the three of them. My son was honestly pissed off at his mother. I can deal with THAT!

"Well, son," I said to him, "Us Eaton men suck at this girlfriend thing, don't we!"

"Yeah Dad," he grumbled "I guess so."

"Ain't genetics great, son?"

"Yeah, thanks Dad."

But he had gone out of his way and called me for something as inconsequential as New Year's Eve. Yes, it was partly because he was at his mother but he went out of his way to call me just to talk. I can deal with THAT!

So while other things in my life may be in question I still have my son. I sat that makes for a damned good New Years Eve.

After he hung up I put the Sinatra channel on the satellite, turned up the volume, opened the sliders to the pool, filled a glass with bourbon, lit a cigar and sung away in the hammock while Frank sang.

Yup.....a pretty damned good New Years!!!!

Christmas always brings back memories of some of the best presents I ever got.

I still have one of my first toys; a train engine ride-on toy. It is jet black with a gold bell and a little bellows operated whistle I would pound on to announce my arrival.

To prove that I've always been a geek there was the year I got the GIANT 4 foot tall model of the Apollo 11. This was the complete Saturn V rocket that was taller than me that came apart in stages and had a separate lunar module so I could recreate an entire Apollo mission.

I have been scouring Ebay and trying to save a few bucks to collect another geek toy from my childhood; Major Matt Mason. He was a posable rubber action figure in while space suit and helmet. This was not as articulated or durable as a GI Joe because the rubber body was built over a wimple wire skeleton which would give out and poke out of an arm or leg after a few months use like a sickly broken bone. He had a cool jet pack, spider moon crawler, 3-story moon station and alien friend with a green see-through skull.

My belief that I had musical ability was probably seeded in the electric chord organ I got when I was either 11 or 12. An instrument that sounded more like and asthmatic bagpipe than a musical instrument, I would pound away "Beautiful Dreamer" for hours on. I was confused, years later, by sheet music that did not have letters and numbers in it.

The months of fall just before Christmas were Mission:Impossible time for me. I would search every inch of the house searching for my Christmas stash. My mother was done with her shopping my August so I knew that my gifts were wrapped and ready even before I went out Trick or Treating. I would set off on my safari armed with the double edged Gillette blade from my father's razor and a roll of tape. Once I would find my booty I would carefully slice through the tape just enough to either see what the gift was or, in the case of an anonymous gift box, slide the gift out to open and see the hidden treasure.

The other side of this was it was also honing my acting skills as each year I gave a stellar performance that would garner applause from Larry Olivier. OK....yes, I was a little shit about it and I did feel very bad the one year my mother found out what I had been doing. I was 16 and I was getting a 35mm camera. I was overjoyed to get it and it became one of my most used gifts ever. I don't remember how my mother found out but I clearly remember she was more upset that my father had been so excited about getting the camera for me. My feigned surprise that Christmas was an extra good performance not only because I really liked the gift but because the entire time as I opened the gift my mother's eyes were locked on me with a wild homicidal glare motivating me with simple self-preservation.

My ex-wife surprised me today.

We were on the phone comparing notes about holiday plans when, for some reason she said, "Oh! I was thinking of you the other day! She said it with a smile in her voice so I knew it was nothing with legal entanglements.

"What?" I asked, still pensively.

"We're having our kitchen cabinets redone."

That was all she had to say and we both broke out into laughter.

Back in 1980 I was working at WHIM, a country radio station in Rhode Island. My ex and her family were regular listeners. Actually, that's putting it mildly; the were fanatics. On either my first or second day on the job I was told about her family and was quickly added to their list of DJ's they call on an almost constant basis.

My ex was in high school at the time and had a crush on almost every male on the air staff. Jim O'Brien was first; her pubescent heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of his name and I swear still does to this day. Mike Bessette and I seemed to be second choice, and we were happy to be; it was a safe place. Kevin O'Connor seemed to fall into the older cousin she wished really wasn't a cousin and they have developed a strong friendship over the years. Chuck Hinman was older and seemed like an uncle of sorts.

All of us, though, we constant targets of almost endless phone calls, meeting them at almost every remote broadcast and numerous visits to the station. Needless to say, our relationship ended up going a little further than that, but that was years after leaving that station and could be a whole series of blog entries on their own. All the time I was working there we flirted with each other. I was a little bit older and I'm sure the attention from one of her crushes made her feel good. One of the first times our relationship stepped outside of the radio station was when he mother was looking for someone to redo their kitchen cabinets.

I was making little money working part time at the station and was going to college so the offer of a few extra bucks for simple stripping, re-painting and lining of cabinets seemed like an easy enough job and I got to hang out with my ex; which, at the time, seemed like not too bad a thing.

I must have gone there a half dozen time and gotten about half of the job done. Then, something came up and I never got back to finish. It's been so long that I don't even remember but it eventually became a joke between my ex and I. Of course, our relationship ended up like the cabinet job and I don't think she's ever mentioned it before today.

It was nice to hear the nostalgia in her laughter. She seemed to actually look back on something in our shared past with affection. There have been times, since our divorce, when we could not be in the same room for more than three minuets without breaking into shouting matches of insults and recriminations. Suddenly, I was back in the cramped studio in East Providence talking with a giggly teenager 2 minuets and 30 seconds at a time in between country western records. The "passionate" love is long since dead and gone but I can honestly say that I do love my friend after all these years.

It was the nicest present she never knew she gave me.

Apparently, I'm gonna live!

Of course, the results were met with the usual response.

My friend, Sondra, from the health clinic at Shawshank called when the results came in, "I'm shocked and amazed!"

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"You numbers are perfect! You're in great condition. I never would have expected it!"

"Oh, you mean I only look like shit?!"

I still haven't followed up with my doctor but after going over them with the clinic staff and google'ing the numbers myself everything does look pretty much text book. Which is a great relief to me. My cholesterol is normal, I am not diabetic and my PSA numbers (the one I was really nervous about being my first test for this) were normal.

The reason I haven't seen my doctor yet is because he is waiting for the results from the heart monitor I had to wear for 24 hours. While it was annoying enough to have wires stuck to my chest and an over-sized tape recorded hung on my hip not to mention the joy of trying to sleep and not dislodge any of the wires and contact the real fun was removing the five glues on contacts.

I felt so sorry for the technician when I removed my shirt and she saw the contacts glues not only to my chest but the fur like chest hairs. If you've ever seen Robin Williams in "The Fisher King".....well, I could have been a body double for him! Knowing the pain it would inflict, the technician suggested I remove the contacts myself. Figuring the good, old fashioned band-aid-one-quick-tug-and-it's-over would work the best. The girl jumped each time I yanked a contact off with it's own little clump of hair attached.

It really wasn't that bad. I finally got the damned monitor off me but I was left with five little bald spots.

Last night was our company Christmas party. For the past few years they have held it under tents in our parking lot and have always had a fantastic set up. This year was no exception. However, they promoted it as a "formal" event. Usually, it is set as a semi-formal, I'm guessing, as a celebration of our being merged with a bigger company.

Still, I wondered, did they expect some of us to afford formal wear on what we make at our jobs. I searched high and low and was able to find just the right "formal" attire that would reflect a Shawshank paycheck.



The gentleman in the photo with me is my pal, Mel. He and I are the two surviving members of our training class from 10 years ago. He and I now have more seniority on the job than ANY member of upper management. We have seen CEO's come and go and to go from a company of 200 employees in a privately owned company to 2,000 employees of a division of one of the largest pharmaceutical corporations ion the country.

It is amazing that a dope who wears a tux t-shirt has survived 10 years in the coprorate world!

Well, at least until Monday!

I gave in to my age to day and went to the doctor for the 50,000 mile check up.

It has been two years since I've actually been in the office and that was all I heard from each nurse, office clerk and the doctor himself. You'd think they'd be happy I've been healthy enough NOT to have to be there. I had been planning on this visit but have been experiencing an odd reaction to, of all things for me....eating.

Since my gastric bypass, every time I would have either pasta of dairy products I would experience a major fluctuation in my blood sugars, my hear would race and I'd end up taking a nap to let my body get back to normal. I've gotten used to it and it really wouldn't happen all too often. Occasionally, I would even use it as a cheat to get to sleep; a little Ben & Jerry's and I'd be off to la-la-land.

OK, not the best thing to do, but effective and lots cheaper then Ambien.

So I have had a couple of pints of blood drained out of me along with a few other bodily fluids and will be heading back to the doctor's office to get a heart monitor.

Ahhhhh.....the joys of being middle aged!

It's decorating time again at Shawshank and I dove in as I usually do. There is something missing from my display this year....54 Santas. In moving a box crammed full of the Santas I have collected so far has been misplaced. It is my mission this weekend to scour the garage to find them.

Until then.....


This year I was very Martha Stewart when it came to the wrapping paper. I spent a total of 2 hours matching the pattern.

And I'm glad I spent the time.

Now if I can only find those danged Santas!!!

If you're a Beatles fan you fall into one of two camps; you either like Paul or you like John. There's no middle ground. You either think Paul was a master songwriter and John was a trouble maker who went astray mixing politics and music or you think John was a poet and Paul wrote jingles.

As I was driving around doing some Christmas shopping today Paul's "Having a Wonderful Christmas Time" came on the radio. I was in just the right relaxed mood that I started singing along with it. Suddenly I started listening to the bouncy electronic piano and repetitive lyrics.

Ding, dong, ding, dong
Ding, dong, ding, dong

The mood is right
The spirits up
Were here tonight
And that's enough
Simply having a wonderful Christmas time
Simply having a wonderful Christmas time

The word is out
About the town
So lift your glass
And don't look down
Simply having a wonderful Christmas time
Simply having a wonderful Christmas time

That last part of the chorus is repeated 10 times.

Compare that to John's Christmas song, "War is Over"

So this is Xmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so this is Xmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

A very Merry Xmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

And so this is Xmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong
And so happy Xmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let's stop all the fight

A very Merry Xmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

And so this is Xmas
And what have we done
Another year over
A new one just begun
And so happy Xmas
We hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

A very Merry Xmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear
War is over, if you want it
War is over now

Hmmmmmmmmm......Which song carries as much relevance today as the day it was written?

Damn, I miss John!

Paul sucks!

A hero has died.

No one stands out more in my memories of age 9 - 13 more than Evel Kenievel. He was Superman brought to life. He had the super hero costume complete with cape.And THAT hair! He wore a damn helmet and still had a do that wouldn't quit.

He defined swagger. He looked at each stunt with as much fear as a normal man would look at walking off the curb. He spoke plainly and straightforward. He was also damned good looking. I had no real understanding of it at that age, but something in me knew he got all the girls because of the way he acted.

As I got older and learned more about him and how he lived his life I admired him more. Yes, he was flawed and yes, he made mistakes. But, he stood right up for each decision he made in his life; good or bad, and said to the world, "Fuck you if you don't like it." I like the fact he too a bat to the knees of the guy who wrote an unauthorized biography filled with nothing but lies. I like the fact he hired limos for all of the guys getting out of jail the same day he did to take them home.

This guy was chutzpah defined.

Thinking of Evel brings back other good memories from that time. In the 6th grade my friend, Al McCall and I were avid Evel fans. We watched every jump on ABC's Wide World of Sports. We has September 8, 1974 marked on our calendars from the moment the Snake River jump was announced. I can still picture myself planted in front of the TV watching the jump while playing with my Ideal Evel Kenievel "gyro-energizer" stunt motorcycle.

These wimps in the X-Games owe everything they have to Evel. As they make piles of cash from winnings and product endorsements for simply flipping a dirt bike 20 feet in the air they are riding on the back of a giant who hurtled himself 10 times that distance and speed.

All they while they yelling, "Party on, dood!"

Before each jump Robert Craig Kenievel would tell us to believe in ourselves and believe on our dreams.

Gee...which sounds better to you?

Food for thought about the writers strike.

The reason I haven't posted for quiet some time is, honestly, not that much has been going on.

Until today.....

I got a call from KC, the guy who runs the sound studio where I have been doing all my voice over jobs for the DAVE School. He had an outside job for which he thought I would be prefect. It is for a water taxi/tour boat business in the Virgin Islands. It has a pirate theme to it and for some odd reason when KC thought of pirates he thought of me!

This water taxi will ferry tourists around the Virgin Islands in an open boat decked out with all kinds of pirate artwork. As they go around there will hear sounds of pirates, battles and a scripted story will tour them around the area.

We had tried for the last week to work out a time which fit into my work schedule and with the holiday happening as well things didn't fall into place until this morning. To me it was a perfect sign of how much this means to me. I left an email for my boss telling her I wouldn't be in to work until late in the afternoon and would make up my hours. While almost any day I get ready for work at Shawshank I am dragging myself every step of the way; for this job I was up at 5:15 and out of the house and hour later for the 90 minuet drive to the studio. I even made it there before KC.

For almost two hours we created a world of pirate noises. From an evil pirate captain, to a drunk singing pirate on the dock, background people and 10 minuets of nothing but "Arrrggggggghhh's" and pirate laughter. And that's what it was, creating something. We tossed ideas around, twisted voices around and created a world to surround this water taxi.

I was in heaven.

And I got paid for it as well!!!!!!

I had gotten up before the sun, driven almost 200 miles round trip within 6 hours and still gone to my job at Shawshank...all to be able to do this recording session. When KC first offered my the job he couldn't get over the fact I was willing to do all this. I simply said to him, "Look, it's a job and I'm hungry for the work. This is what I want to do and if you're offering me a paid gig; I'm there." No, it's not the kind of job that is going to really build my resume but I have just proven to my first producer outside of the DAVE School my dedication to the work and maybe someday a casting director from Nickelodeon or Dreamworks will ask him about my work ethic and at least he'll be able to say, "Yeah, that crazy bastard will do anything for a job!"

It's something Billy West said the time he and I got to talk. He spoke about how some people are overwhelmed by the volume of work he has and the variety and number of jobs. He said, "There's never a job that isn't worthy. If someone is willing to pay for your talent and you're able to go there and create something, then it's worth it. It's always about the work."

That's what today was.

I LOVE HALLOWEEN!

Gee, is that a shock?!

Again, this year I went all out. First was a party this past weekend. We had 15 people here; most from my Trek club and two friends from Tampa. As I said to them, "My friend's house is yours!"

We had a great time with food, costume contest, a showing of "Monster House" and lots of friendly conversation. For decoration we had come up with the idea of floating Jack O'Lanterns in the pool. It worked out so well. My son John and the neighbor's daughter did the carving and we put glow sticks in them for light. There were two of them that sunk down below the water with just the stems sticking out, but, because they had the glow sticks in them, they continues to glow under the water!I wore my "Planet of the Apes" makeup which meant another yearly shaving of the beard.

Here is a link for photos from the party.

Since I had already shaved off the beard, I decided to put that to good use since Halloween itself was a work day. Here is how I went to work today!

As you can see, I was well within dress code and was allowed to stay in my outfit all day. The jokes flew all day of course. It is getting harder and harder to top myself each year. I'll probably need all year to come up with something.

I can just hardly wait for the damned beard to grow back in!!!!!!!

Well, here's something that hasn't happened in quite a long time.

I was sitting watching TV earlier tonight when the phone rang; it was Julie. No, that wasn't what I was talking about. As the conversation went along she asked what I was doing for the evening and wanted to know if she could take me up on an offer for dinner.

Up[ until now, due to work schedules, her kids, illness and more we have been doing little more than lunch together almost every day. While that isn't a bad thing, of course, it is little more than a rushed 30 minuets trying to digest and talk at the same time. No the best way to get to know each other.

I had occasionally made suggestions and we would have tentative plans but something would seem to come up. And just like I worried how much my son might have been drifting apart from me I also worried that things might never really take off with Julie. All those worries flew out the door the moment I got that call.

Well, the worries went out the door and panic took over!

We agreed on dinner and she ended up having to bring two of her daughters with her; oh, good....the kid test! I hung up the phone and raced through shower, shave and finding something to wear. I think I was ready within 8 minuets when it took her almost an hour to arrive. She had Olivia her 18 month old Gerber Baby of a child and Nicki, her 5 year old clone. A 2 foot tall carbon copy of her mother, she played the shy child, hiding behind her mother every step of the way into the house. The minuet she saw my Spongebob Squarepants throw pillow and all of the stuffed animals and doll house in the girl's room she was apparently sold on me.

We went to the local Carraba's when I continued to win Nicki over. The waitress gave her a pile of pizza dough to play with and we spent the evening making all kinds animals but somehow making nothing but animal's butts. She laughed out loud at using the word and with the twinkle in her eye a child gets when they can get away with something a little "bad" with the approval of an adult. Yes, I seemed to have won her over.

Julie, on the other hand turned red each time her daughter said the word "butt". My 16 year old parenting skills might have earned me some points with her as well.

Time will tell.

Something else that hasn't happened in a while was the first kiss. There's this wonderful moment in Woody Allen's "Annie Hall" :

ALVY
Hey, listen, listen.

ANNIE
What?

ALVY
Gimme a kiss.

ANNIE
Really?

ALVY
Yeah, why not, because we're just gonna
go home later, right?

ANNIE
Yeah.

ALVY
And-and uh, there's gonna be all that
tension. You know, we never kissed before
and I'll never know when to make the right
move or anything. So we'll kiss now we'll
get it over with and then we'll go eat. Okay?

ANNIE
Oh, all right.

ALVY
And we'll digest our food better.

ANNIE
Okay.


ALVY
Okay?

ANNIE
Yeah.

They kiss.

ALVY
So now we can digest our food.


I had something in mind to say. Not quite as clever as Woody Allen, but still, I thought, cute and humorous enough to break the tension of the moment. Or, so I thought.

What happened? Well, let's just say it may need a re-write. We talked about it a little and I hope there will be a chance to have a do-over for that moment. We both agreed it had been a while since we've dated and that may have led to some nervousness on both our sides.

Again, time will tell.